


Cabbages and Kings

by frostedcookiepopurri



Category: Workaholics (TV)
Genre: Adam being an egotistical dick, Alcohol, Anders being somewhat uppity, Bad Weather, Blake just blatantly trying, Drug Use, F/M, Friendship, Gradual Romance, Realistic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-08
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 18:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostedcookiepopurri/pseuds/frostedcookiepopurri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A woman enters the nest. Hurricane ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Email

**Author's Note:**

> I've never been a huge fan of OCs, but I've decided I'm going to give it a go (the idea's been stuck in my mind for months now). This was made entirely for the sake of experimentation and what-the-fuck-ever. Kudos and comments are kind.

To: **********@*******.***  
Subject: Willing Roommate  
__________  
  
  
Dear homeowners;  
  
I've read on the local website in the classifieds recently that you are currently in search for a fourth roommate. Considering my current circumstances, I would definitely be willing to proceed with the interview as mentioned. I'm available at anytime in the afternoons, so you can contact me then.  
  
I look forward to it.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Juniper Pollock  
  
__________

Juniper Pollock  
456 ********** Street  
Rancho Cucamonga, CA 91***  
Cell: (***) *** - ****  
Email: *********@*****.***


	2. A Potential Fourth Roommate

Post-rain moister filmed over too-green artificial grass, the sunrise reflecting in its dew drops. It's spring, and the morning wind was warm, winding and twining through tree branches and suburban home fences. The sun's rays peaked over the flat rooftops of city buildings, heating their surfaces, drying the raindrops from before and leaving a crisp shine over them. People left for work, children to school. Morning traffic was prevalent on the Rancho Cucamonga streets, cars buzzing and beeping at each other for space. The sun rose higher in the sky, painting it blue, yet blotched with clouds with some still gray from the day before. The day went by, calm and casual. It's three in the afternoon. Children returned home, as do some adults from their everyday workplaces. It was finally the time for relaxation, leisure...  
  
Luke warm beer.  
  
"Anders. Anders, why. Ders.  _Why,_ " Adam DeMamp called flatly from the kitchen counter. In his right hand was a too warm bottle of beer. His left hand was lying over the beer case, fingers tapping over it in annoyance.  
  
"Yes, okay, I'm sorry," Anders Holmvik, collapsing on the couch and kicking off his shoes, scoffed, "I forgot to throw the beer in the fridge this morning. Just drink it like that... whatever."  
  
"Dude," Adam retorted, his ego puffing up in his chest, "Just so you know--which you should already know--I am  _fresh._  I'm fresher than... than a pack of ice-cold alcohol which this should be. I  _need_  ice-cold alcohol to fuel my freshness. You've broken my heart, Ders," he slapped his free hand over his heart, "You've finally done it."  
  
Anders inhaled sharply through his nose and exhaled out his mouth, ignoring Adam's glaring daggers vengefully his way. Adam huffed and turned to the warm beer. Eyes shifting side to side, he twisted off the cap with the fabric of his shirt, and chugged.  
  
Anders flipped on the television with the remote whose number buttons were broken, leaving the channel up or down buttons the only option for channel surfing. It came on to the local weather. A woman was predicting something about a possible hurricane off the coast. Anders switched the channel without interest.  
  
Blake Henderson was standing idly outside in the back, smelling the lingering scent of chlorine emanating from their messy pool. Looking into the pale blue water, his reflection showed a furrowed expression along with a loosened tie and wrinkled collar shirt. A crumpled red plastic cup drifted through it, distorting his face.  _I should really clean this pool,_  he thought, leaning over to take the cup and throw it in the trash... although there were many other cups and things floating about and sunken at the bottom. Entering the house, he turned for the kitchen. He threw the cup in the direction of the trashcan which sat next to the refrigerator. He then heard it ricochet off the edge of the trashcan and hit the floor. Blake looked at it and the floor surrounding it... it was flooding over the top with junk and recyclables. He dropped his head and sighed.  
  
Blake left for the living room, warm beer in hand.  
  
"Alice's ass looked great today," Adam smirked, tilting his bottle back into his mouth. "You say that everyday, Adam," Blake sighed at the drunk's repetitive comment. He grabbed his laptop off the table, which was set on sleep mode all day. "Yeah, but today it just looked... extra firm and delicio-"  
  
"Any responses yet, Blake?" Anders drowned out Adam, who stuck out his tongue at him and sunk farther into his chair. With a couple clicks, Blake was in his inbox, searching for a response from the article they placed in the local website.  
  
Over a month ago, they decided to clean out the extra bedroom in their house that was half-full of boxes and useless things. After having it emptied, the boys decided to find a fourth roommate... after much arguing over the many disadvantages and consequences. Their first option was Karl, Blake's dealer. They insisted over and over to him to be the fourth--besides Anders giving hints that no, he  _did not_  want him sharing the household. Luckily for him, Karl turned down the offer, stating he was perfectly content in his van... which depressed Blake. A week later, they received a call and an email; one being from a college freshman, and the other being from a fledgling accountant. The college freshman scrutinized their alcohol and threatened to call the cops for marijuana possession. The accountant didn't much care for those, but definitely caused an uproar over the "tornado of filth" that came through the house. Both did not last very long. Three weeks afterward, they got a call from a man in his late twenties. The trio found him to be curiously fun and he turned out to be a great guy after a few days. Unfortunately, within the first week of him being there, they found he was downloading child pornography on his computer. He was immediately taken into custody after almost pulling a knife on them after their discovery. It's been over five weeks since then, and there has been no hope for someone new... or safe.  
  
Blake slumped, "Nope. Nothing." "Dammit," Anders breathed. The end of Adam's bottle met the floor with a  _clink_ , and he asked, "How about we just keep it like this? Just the three of us, like always? Why do we need a fourth-wheel?"  
  
"We don't  _need_  them," Anders declared, "nor will they be a forth-wheel. We've gone through this already. Think about this as... as..."  
  
"A start of a new adventure!" Blake interceded.  
  
Anders nodded to him, grinning, "Yeah, that."  
  
Blake took a gulp from the bottle of beer he almost forgot about leaning against his inner thigh. Swallowing, he said, "Don't kill the buzz, bro." Adam sneered, picking up his bottle, "Oh, I'm getting there."  
  
Anders gazed down at the computer screen, searching over it impatiently for something to come through. After some warm bottles of beer and a few familiar jokes told too many times, the spammed-filled inbox on Blake's account shifted, a new email filing in. Anders had to do a double-take. He cried, "Oh my god, look!" He pointed at the new email, finger almost touching the screen. Blake leaned in, Adam getting up from his chair to stand behind the couch for a better look.  
  
 _Willing Roommate_  
  
Blake's eyes widened, looking at his two friends in partial disbelief; the looks on their faces expressing just the same. "Click it," Adam hesitantly whispered.  
  
And so Blake did.  
  
The email was short, simple, and provided everything needed for contact. One thing stumped them, though...  
  
"Juniper," Anders pronounced carefully.  
  
"Isn't that... a  _girl's_  name?" Blake questioned, his brows arching.  
  
"What dude has the name  _Juniper?_ " Adam asked rhetorically, trying to add humor to the situation.  
  
"Guys. A woman. In the house.  _Living with us,_ " Anders emphasized. Blake imagined seeing a female walking around their house in her pajamas.  
  
"Man," Adam glowered, "if there's a woman in the house, do you know what that means? Nagging, lady... things in the bathroom... she's probably gonna bitch about the trash all over the place."  
  
"Adam, you lived with a divorced cougar you almost rejected us for. Don't even go there," Blake reminded him, pointing out his hypocrisy. Adam mocked him with a high-pitched muttering.  
  
"Hey, hey, hey!" Anders threw everyone back into focus, "Adam, don't be so negative for once! Look... wait, what time is it?" Blake found the clock at the edge of the computer screen and answered, "It's almost four-thirty."  
  
"I'm going to call her, and we're having the interview tomorrow afternoon. That's the final verdict," Anders concluded. He pushed himself off the couch, heading for the phone. Nearly there, Adam blocked his path.  
  
He begged, "Ders... Ders, c'mon. Are you  _fer sure_  you want to do this? I mean, I love women, but a woman living  _with_  us? I mean... isn't that a little... drastic?" Anders grabbed Adam by the shoulders and shoved him aside, closing the space between him and the phone. He countered him, "You know, maybe accepting a woman in the home will actually change you perspective a bit." Blake sucked in a breath through his teeth, mimicking a  _burn._  At some points in time, Blake and Anders wanted to call Adam a sexist pig... but even they have had their moments of using women as an advantage. Adam never learns from his mistakes, though.  
  
Anders ordered Blake to read out the woman's number. Doing so, he dialed it into the phone concurrently. Adam and Blake huddled around Anders, the three of them bursting with anxiety.  
  
The phone rang. It continued to ring still. There was a clicking noise, then... " _Hello?_ "  
  
Their breaths hitched, silent like ghosts.  
  
"...Hello?" The tired voice repeated. One more second and she will surely hang up.  
  
"Hi! Are you the one that sent the email in reply to our spot as a fourth roommate on the local site?" Anders rushed out his words due to the swift release of the bubble of air lodged in his lungs. "Oh... Oh! Um, yeah, I sent that... yeah, that would be me... Juniper Pollock," she said awkwardly, faltering at the end.  
  
Anders smiled, "Oh, good! Awesome. Could you hold for one second, please?" He buried the phone in his neck and turned on Adam and Blake. He mouthed at them to shoo, wanting privacy. For business to run smoothly for Anders it had to be kept in isolation, away from distraction. Seeming a tad hurt, the two scurried back to the living room. Adam leaned against the front door as Blake paced. They waited.  


* * *

  
After a dragging five minutes, Anders finally came back into the room with a pleased look in his eye... and found Blake and Adam both pacing circles around the room in unison. They stopped once he caught their attention with good news. "Well guys, I think we've found ourselves a potential fourth roommate."  
  
"Dude, really?" Blake said gladly, "Kick-ass."  
  
Adam questioned dubiously, "Does she seem... cool?"  
  
Anders nodded, "Yeah, she sounds all right to me. Well, we arranged for a meeting two days from now at five. So... I think we should get ready for then."  
  
"What?" Adam said, "What do you mean 'get ready for then?'"  
  
Anders sighed and continued, "I... I think we should clean up just a little bit. A  _little._  For a good impression."  
  
Blake, standing closest to Adam, could almost hear the rusted cogs turning in his friend's head.  _Ding._  
  
"We're cleaning the house?" Adam stepped back, appalled. "Why? Just because it's a  _girl?_ You want to impress her or someth-"  
  
"Just because maybe she'll be permanent this time. Maybe she won't complain, maybe she won't care for all the beer and liquor and other shit we have hidden everywhere. We might as well try our best to actually keep this one and not watch her stomp out over the trivial things the others have. It's better to have any kind of hope than none. Now,  _deal._ "  
  
Adam stared down his nose at Anders, blood nearly at boiling point. He shoved pass Blake, and stomped to his room, shutting the door behind him with a bang.  
  
Anders and Blake gaped down the hallway, then back at each other. These times have happened many times before. Blake murmured, "I think he just needs more alcohol." Anders shook his head, "He's been like this since that whole start of this. I don't understand what his damn problem is. He's just stubborn and can't take change."  Blake chuckled, "O _h yeah._  Hey, by tonight he'll be dead-drunk, apologize, and probably won't remember the argument by morning. Don't worry too hard on it. I'm sure he'll help us out with cleaning by tomorrow, anyway." He placed a hand on Anders's shoulder and squeezed lightly, reassuring him.  
  
As Blake predicted, later that night Adam got drunk off his rocker, tripping over himself and laughing at the blandest things. He of course begged for Anders's forgiveness, promising to do anything for him,  _but not to him._  Gaining his respect again, they all had a long night fueled with alcohol and the frequent bong. As morning crept in through the window blinds, all clambered into their beds, high and intoxicated.


	3. Spring Cleaning

"Fucking hell..." Anders was on the verge of ripping his digital clock off his nightstand. It was four in the afternoon. They unintentionally slept far past morning. Anders jolted out of his bed, instantly regretting it as vertigo knocked him back. Pressing his palm against his forehead, he slowly balanced himself onto his feet. He stumbled down the hall to the living room, finding Blake's laptop lying half-open on the couch, battery light blinking on and off. Bending over the couch to reach it, he flipped it open. It flashed on, straining Anders's eyes and making him wince. Blake forgot to turn off his laptop last night... which wasn't unusual. He squinted at the date shown at the corner of the screen. He then remembered it was their day off, reason he chose this day yesterday to start their spring cleaning. And there was one other thing...  
  
"Oh, hell, I almost forgot," Anders grumbled, remembering the interview with the woman tomorrow.  
  
Anders started brewing a pot of coffee to liven him up. The other two were still snoozing in their rooms... when a terribly evil idea came to him.  
  
Marching through the house, he clanked a fork furiously against a glass, its  _tink tink tinks_  echoing off the walls. "Get up! Get up! It's time to clean up!" He chanted.  
  
Blake and Adam awoke, hangovers settling in the moment their eyelids cracked open.  
  
Blake was sprawled out on the floor next to his bed, blankets and pillows pulled right off, encasing him in a layer of sweat. He grunted, pushing himself up with his wobbly arms. Getting as far as kneeling, Blake's upper half fell limp, and he face-planted onto the floor. He left himself that way, dozing in and out of consciousness.  
  
Adam--somehow having the ability to target his alcohol-pumped body to his own bed--covered his face with his pillow, growling angrily.  
  
Anders, still about the house clanking his glass, stood before the hallway and sang, "Wake up, children!"  
  
Adam's door slammed open, and he charged out like a heat-sought missile. Anders simply stepped to the side...  
  
Adam collided with the back of the couch, and with with a loud  _oomf,_  flipped right over it, and tumbled off the cushions to the floor.  
  
Anders, pinched with triumph, laughed heartily at Adam. The crumpled figure on the floor managed a muffled  _augh._  
  
Anders turned away, and found Blake hunched over against his bedroom door. "Good... morning..." Blake mumbled. "Afternoon, actually. It's four," Anders said briskly. Blake's passive expression didn't change.  
  
"I smell coffee," Adam strained himself off the floor, feeling a sting in his left side. Standing up, he twisted his torso side to side, loudly cracking vertebrae.  
  
"I started a pot a few minutes ago," Anders informed, "I suggest drinking it. We're going to work today."  
  
"What? N-...no we're not. Aren't..." Blake yawned, jaw popping, "Aren't we off today?" He lurched through to the kitchen, but caught himself before losing balance again. He rested his forehead on the counter, trying to recollect what had happened last night.  
  
"Yeah, we are. I mean, we're cleaning up today. Don't you two remember me saying that yesterday?" Anders tried to remind them in spite of their hazy minds, for Blake looked back at him with furrowed brows, and Adam with an expression twisted into bottomless incomprehension. Anders gawked at them.  
  
"Y-You're serious. Dudes, the girl. The interview. Tomorrow? We have to clean the house up today!"  
  
Blake and Adam voiced an  _oh!_  which had Anders shaking his head ruefully, thinking he should have just waited until their minds were clearer. Thinking again, they needed to start soon since the day was almost over.  
  
The boys went on to gulp their coffee, energizing themselves enough for the tough obstacles ahead. Anders drank three cups. Blake drank three and a half. Adam somehow managed to down six, but that wasn't much of a challenge for him. He once downed two 5-Hour Energies for a dare. He didn't sleep for three days straight, and rearranged the living room five times.  
  
They planned out their chores, who will do what, having the pool be the last major project for all of them to do. Blake offered to clean the living room and the hallway, and pick up trash around the front lawn and the rest of the house. Anders agreed to help with the trash, and also clean the kitchen and bathroom. With much pushing, Adam was left with sweeping and mopping the floors, and dusting off the cabinets, tables, and whatever else that could be dusted.  
  
As hours and hours of grueling slaving passed, the floor became more visible to the eye, and the air smelled cleaner... and less like marijuana. The trash was emptied, the rooms became passable, and the lawn became decent and cut. All that was left was the dreaded pool. The three boys stood around it, pool-cleaning equipment in hand. Anders tried to count the number of red plastic cups and cheap cans of wine floating in it.  
  
"Alright," he declared with a breath of fatigue as his fists tightened around the pool net, "Let's get this over with."  
  
Cleaning their pool was a much harder task than it seemed. Scrubbing a thin layer of algae off the insides, picking the trash floating within, filtering the water with chemicals--including heaving a damn lawn chair out of its depths. It was difficult, but by the end, it was worth the tough effort. The pool was already looking crystal blue in the setting sun.  
  
They sat on the edge of the pool, dipping their toes in and out of its water. It was always cooler when the night came.  
  
Adam broke the long, weary silence, "We're finally done. Fucking finally."  
  
"Fucking finally," Blake and Anders repeated in unison.  
  
Another prolonged silence. Blake wondered aloud, "I wonder what she'll be like."  
  
"No idea. She sounded really nice. Her voice was... not high at all, like how they usually sound," Anders mentioned, "Like, it was... deep-ish?"  
  
"What, like truck driver deep? Or stoned-out hippie deep?" Adam asked.  
  
"Wha- No! Neither of those. It was sort of... oh, how do you describe it? Thick? She sounded almost like she had a sore throat, but... she didn't? Do you see where I'm getting at?"  
  
Blake chimed in, "I think I heard someone with a voice like that before. This one chick that worked at the local grocery store. She sounded tired and bored all the time, but she wasn't."  
  
"Yeah. Yeah, it was like that. I think," Anders scratched at his head, still unsure if that was the right way to describe it.  
  
"You think she's a babe?" Adam questioned out of pure male instinct.  
  
Anders sighed, "Adam, seriously?"  
  
"What? It's just a question," He looked away, hiding his pink face.  
  
"What if she's really gross and doesn't bathe?" Blake smirked wryly, nearly laughing.  
  
"Oh come on, guys, don't start judging the girl before we even meet her." Anders sometimes had to father those to two. "We're going to see what she's like tomorrow. Let's just hope she's not like the previous choices we made."  
  
Blake snorted in agreement. Stars began to poke through the veil of black.  
  
"Are you... nervous?" Blake strained over the last word.  
  
The other two sat wordless for a moment, until Adam spoke out, "Actually, for the first time after all this... yeah."  
  
"Me too," Anders added.  
  
Their conversation concluded with those last words. The night air stilled, and the boys stayed there until the first signs of drowsiness began to creep in on them. Each entered the house one by one, and all of them met their beds with a longing for deep sleep.


End file.
